


Be True

by Dresupi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Banter, F/M, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Kissing, Light Angst, One Shot, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Ron Weasley Bashing, very light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25591609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi
Summary: It's Valentine's Day. The day for Hermione to come clean about her feelings for a certain someone.Except it's also the day for Ron to start begging Hermione to come back.The fact that her 'certain someone' is Ron's brother makes things a bit more complicated than she previously thought.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley
Comments: 26
Kudos: 195
Collections: Dresupi's Fremione Fics, Dresupi's Sweetheart Prompts





	Be True

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ellerigby13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellerigby13/gifts).



> “Hermione, please,” Ron pleaded. 

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out again slowly before she could bear to respond to what was likely the very last thing she wanted to hear. It was Valentine’s Day, and for once, she wasn’t tied down to anyone. She was going to spend a night in watching movies with a friend. 

True, a friend who she’d very much like to be more than a friend. A friend who made all of this so much more complicated than she’d wanted. It was also true that her ‘friend’ was her ex’s brother, but that was allowed. Especially when the ex had left her over a year ago, and her ‘friend’ had been there for her. 

Her friend was Fred. Fred was the friend. The friend who she’d very much like to be more than a friend. 

Merlin, how could she have thought this could ever happen without it being complicated? 

She must have been temporarily addled because she could see now that there wasn’t any way this could work. If she dated Fred now, she’d hurt Ron. 

Never mind that Ron had hurt her. Greatly. How dare he come back just when she was getting comfortable? When she’d dusted herself off and had come to terms with the long-standing crush she’d seemingly _always_ had on Fred, and was almost ready to act on it? 

“Ron, don’t do this,” she groaned. 

“Why not, Mione? We belong together. I see that now.” 

“You don’t see anything other than you’ve made your rounds and all the witches have your number and know you’re not the marrying kind. So you’ve circled back to me.” 

Ron actually looked offended. “That’s what you think of me?” he asked, his voice rising at the end of the sentence to the point where it might have been comical if this conversation were about _anything_ else. 

“ _This_ is what you think of me?” she asked. “You think I’m this stupid, Ronald? You and I didn’t work. We didn’t. I see that now. You want a different life than I do.” 

“But that’s the thing. I want to get married now,” he said. “I’m tired of coming home to an empty flat. I want you to be there. Waiting for me when I get home.” He reached for her hands, she kept them limp. 

The sad thing was, he probably thought he was being sweet. 

Hermione sighed again. “That’s just it. I don’t want to wait for you.” She tugged her hands from his. “I haven’t been for nearly a year and it’s been the best I’ve felt about myself. There is someone out there for you, Ron. Someone who will wait for you and will be happy to do it. I’m not that someone. Now come,” she placed both hands on his shoulders and steered him to the fireplace. “Go on back home and eat some ice cream. Watch some sad movies and get over this, because it’s not happening.” 

“You-you’re rushing me out of here, aren’t you?” Ron stammered. “It’s Valentine’s Day. You’ve got a bloke coming over don’t you?” 

“That doesn’t matter! You’ve had loads of women since we broke up, what gives you the right to be angry with me?” she asked, indignant at his lack of common sense. 

He spluttered a bit, sounding a lot like the time her father’s car had stalled out, the engine made sounds similar to the ones Ron was making now. 

“Besides, not that it matters, but he’s just a friend.” 

Even _she_ didn’t believe that. 

“ _Just a friend_ who comes calling on Valentine’s Day? In your _home_?” Ron snorted derisively and Hermione scrambled to think of what she could say to convince him otherwise when at that precise and inopportune moment, the fireplace popped and fizzled. Fred stepped out amidst a green glow onto her living room carpet and reached up to brush the soot from his hair. 

“Oh,” Ron wheezed out a combination sigh of relief and a laugh. “Here I was thinking you had a bloke, and it’s just Fred.” He patted Fred on the shoulder. “Had me going there for a second. Carry on, carry on. I’ll see you later, Mione.” 

She set her jaw and sighed. “No you won’t, just go.” 

Fred had something tucked up under his arm. But he sent it shrinking and into his pocket while he watched Ron go. He turned back to her, his eyes scanning her face quizzically. “You alright, Mione?” 

She chuckled a little. “ _I_ am, not sure about him. He’s gone positively barmy.” 

“What was that about?” he asked, tilting his head towards the fireplace. 

“That was Ron leaving after literally begging me to take him back. He’s delusional,” she said, huffing out a sigh. “It figures he would have done just as I was coming to terms with everything. Bloody nutter, mucking about for a year and then begging me to take him back. That’s just like him, you know!” She grumbled under her breath for a moment before glancing over at Fred, who was staring at her like her hair had turned green and it was his fault. Like he was sorry for her or something. Which wasn’t the tone she’d intended at all. “I’m fine, I just need some tea.” 

“I can get that,” Fred offered. 

“No, no, I’ll do it the muggle way, I need the distraction for a moment,” she replied, turning to sulk off to the kitchen and curse Ronald Bilius Weasley under her breath the entire way. 

“He’s my brother, you know,” Fred said suddenly from behind her, and Hermione was just about to collapse into so many apologies when he continued. “He’s my brother, and I know I”m supposed to love him and all, but he’s a dimwitted moron with dust for brains and I’m sorry he did this.” 

Hermione closed her eyes and nodded. She ran water into the kettle and placed it on the stove. “It’s not your fault, Fred.” 

It wasn’t. It wasn’t his fault that Ron had mucked up everything. That she now couldn’t rightly tell Fred what she wanted to tell him because it would hurt Ron and likely divide the Weasley family. And there was always the chance that Fred didn’t return her feelings at all. If she were to confess her feelings, she’d not only lose Fred, she’d likely cement her position as Weasley enemy number one. A wretched trollop who broke one brother’s heart while trying to get into another’s robes. 

No, it wasn’t Fred’s fault at all. He hadn’t asked for any of it. 

“I had a year to move on, I should have done when I had the chance,” she sighed. 

“That’s codswallop, Mione.” 

“What?” 

“You can still move on. You don’t have to put everything on hold just because my idiot of a brother can’t make up his mind. You’ve made yours up, I can tell. Don’t lie to yourself out of some misplaced affection for him. He isn’t the only one who matters, you know. In fact, I’d say that when it comes to you, Ron shouldn’t matter at all.” 

The kettle whistled and she quickly turned off the burner and poured the water over her tea, inhaling the aroma as the steam carried it to her nose. 

“I suppose you’re right,” she acquiesced, vowing to change the subject. “What did you bring me?” 

Fred’s eyebrows raised comically. “What makes you think I brought you anything, you daft witch?” 

She fought back a grin. “I saw you hide it in your pocket when you stepped through the fireplace. What’d you bring me?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he teased, taking a seat at her kitchen table and forcing her to Accio whatever it was from his pockets. 

Of course, when she did, she was forced to hold the shrunken down box in her hand for a long moment, glaring at Fred. 

“What’s that look for? You’ve got the thing, haven’t you?” His eyes twinkled and while Hermione knew it was exactly what he was after, she glared all the harder. “Fine, fine. You’re so picky. You want your gift, but you want it life-size. How completely boring of you, Hermione.” 

“That’s me,” she deadpanned. “Boring as sin.” 

“See, to me, that means you’re not boring at all because sin isn’t very boring,” he argued, flicking his wand and muttering the counter-incantation to turn it back to life-size once more. 

“That’s your opinion,” she countered, looking at the now right-size box in front of her. “What is it?” 

“See, a normal witch would have torn it open by now. I’m not sure you understand how presents work, love.” 

She rolled her eyes and pulled the lid off the box, only to stop short when she saw what was inside. 

By all outward appearances, they looked to be salted cream caramels from a lovely little sweet shop near her parent’s home. But this was Fred, so they could really be anything. 

“These won’t make me puke rainbows or anything, will they?” 

Fred sighed heavily as if he were the one who was greatly put upon here. “They’re from your favourite sweet shop in Muggle London. I Muggled up to go there and buy them for you, and you ask me if they’re going to make you puke? Why would I make you puke on Valentine’s Day, Granger?” 

“Because you’re _you_ ,” she countered, pointing at him in a very accusatory way. 

“That’s a fair cop, but I wouldn’t do that on Valentine’s. Your birthday, perhaps, but not Valentine’s.” He placed one hand over his heart and one in the air. “Trickster’s honor, I didn’t meddle with them.” 

“That’s exactly what a trickster would say if he _did_ meddle with them.” She reached for one and sniffed it. 

“Merlin’s beard, woman.” Fred yanked it out of her hand and popped it in his mouth, chewing. “Shall I eat them all, or do you believe me now?” 

“There’s over fifty here. You’d be puking something if you ate all of them.” 

“But not rainbows,” he replied, grabbing another from a different part of the box. After no rainbows, glitter, or fireworks issued from his mouth, she gingerly chose one of her own and ate it. 

It was, of course, delicious. As illustrated by the groan that _did_ issue from her mouth the second the decadent sweet touched her tongue. “Oh, I could eat myself sick on these,” she murmured. 

“So you like them?” Fred asked. 

“I do. But I’m afraid I didn’t get anything for you, didn’t know we were doing gifts.” 

“I thought you were making me dinner,” he said with a shrug. “Not that I’m demanding it or anything.” 

Hermione arched an eyebrow and flicked her wand to get things started. “As you wish, kind sir.” 

Fred rolled his eyes. “Said I didn’t demand it.” 

She shrugged and reached for another caramel. “Didn’t say you did.” 

“Mione, um…” His tone had changed. It was lighter. Quieter. “You know that whatever you choose to do, I’ll support you, right? George and Ginny would too. No matter what any of us say to the contrary. Don’t feel you have to try to work things out with Ron. Or that you have to dump his arse to the curb either. We just want you to be happy.” 

“Awfully nice of you to relay the message for all of you,” she said with a short laugh. She reached for another sweet, and Fred’s fingers closed around her hand. “ _I_ just want you to be happy, Hermione.” 

Her skin burned where he touched her. And when she looked up into his eyes, it only got worse. Or better, whichever way one wished to look at it. 

Hermione licked her lips and decided to call it better. 

“Really?” 

“Truly,” he insisted, running his thumb over the back of her hand before letting it go. She pushed up from her seat and grabbed for his lapels, pulling him back closer so she could kiss him. 

He’d started talking just before her lips met his, so she pulled back. “What?” 

“Table’s in the way,” he muttered, sending it sliding across the floor and pulling her into his arms. One wrapped around her waist, the other cupped her chin and tilted her amicably so he could kiss her properly. 

A bit dramatic, but effective, nonetheless. 

“I really, really hope these aren’t delayed puking sweets,” she mumbled. 

“Hush you,” he replied, nuzzling her nose with his before finding her lips once more. 

“What are we going to tell--” 

“Can you just enjoy a moment without having to think it to death?” 

“No,” she answered. “You know this about me.” 

He sighed. “Merlin help me, I love that about you. Even if I’d rather just snog you silly instead.” 

“Maybe we could just keep this quiet--” 

“Nah,” he shook his head. 

“What? Why?” 

“I’ve been wanting this for a while now, Mione. I’m not going to keep it quiet because it might hurt ickle Ronnykins’ precious feelings. He’s a grown man who made many mistakes. Which worked out well for me, so…” He shrugged. 

“Your mum--” 

“Will be thrilled that you’ve both moved on from Ronald and are still dating one of her sons,” he assured her. “Best of both worlds for her, I’d wager. Now, if you’ve finished worrying about everyone else in the entire world…” 

Hermione grinned. “Fine. Snog me silly.” 

“Oh, I intend to.” She giggled and he kissed the tip of her nose before moving down to her lips. “Doing my job for me, I see.” 

“I can’t help it, I’m too happy.” 

“Good.” 

He’d just started to move in again when she spoke. 

“Do you think we should--” 

He groaned. “Hermione.” 

“Go in the other room?” she continued. “I’ve a rather comfortable sofa in there.” 

He clasped her hand and tugged her along after him. “Fine, but no more interruptions.” He pulled out his wand and cast a warming charm on the dinner before they collapsed in a pile on the sofa. 

He pulled her into his lap, lips brushing over her jaw and she raked both hands through his hair, catching and holding his gaze for a long moment. 

“Get a good look?” he asked, cheeky to a fault. 

“I might have done,” she whispered. 

“Hermione, please kiss me.” 

She didn’t have to be asked again. 

**Author's Note:**

> xoxo!


End file.
